My damn chest aches as I watch my wife walk away from me.
Her fucking tears.
I reach up and rub at the spot over my heart. An unsettling feeling building behind my ribs.
How has no one…
Anger mixes with the other softer emotions swirling inside me.
Why did Savannah even agree to marry me? If the people in her life were so fucking horrible that they never ever told her…
I take one step.
Wanting to go to her.
Wanting to hold her.
I force myself to stop.
This is her night.
My hands ball into fists.
She shouldn’t have bargained away her freedom for them.
Family is meant to support each other. Help each other. Not do whatever it is they did to Savannah.
Me inviting the people close to me, to my wife’s art show, shouldn’t be life changing. It shouldn’t have been enough to put that look in her eyes. The look that said she was grateful to me. For me.
I don’t deserve her adoration.
Hell, I don’t deserve a single fucking piece of her happiness.
But I think she’s going to give it to me anyway.
Filling my lungs with air, I purposefully turn so my back is toward the back hall where Savannah went. Because if I’m facing it, I’ll be too tempted to go to her. And I need to let her shine on her own. Bask in her accomplishment without me making her cry.
I have the rest of our lives to show her how important she is.
I rub that spot over my heart harder.
The rest of our lives.
